


he sleeps with butterflies

by songs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs/pseuds/songs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t like… empty spaces.”</p><p>“Huh?” Hinata pauses, taken aback. He lets the words sink in, yet they don’t seem right. “I thought you liked being alone.”</p><p>“That’s different,” Kageyama grits out. Hinata almost interrupts, but there’s a pleading note to his teammate’s voice, when he goes on, “I don’t like… when a place that used to be full…is empty. Like, when there’s a lot of people somewhere, and they all…” He shivers. “Leave.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	he sleeps with butterflies

ƸӜƷ

It’s late—somewhere between midnight and morning—when Hinata whispers, “Kageyama?”

A low groan sounds from the futon below; Hinata stifles a giggle as he listens to the other boy stirring. Kageyama lets out a few sleep-growls, and then sleep-curses, before a distinct  _thud_ makes clear that he has shifted from his nest of blankets and made contact with the floor.

“God _dammit_ , Hinata—”

“Shh,” Hinata hushes him, twisting to his side. He can just make out the silhouette of Kageyama in the dark; the room is far from bright, dotted with only wisps of curtain-clouded moonlight. “Are you asleep?”

“Do I sound asleep?” The  _dumbass_ is unspoken, but Hinata can still hear it, loud and clear. “What do you want, anyway? It’s—” A tiny, blue glow flickers from the spot Kageyama is speaking from.  _Cell-phone screen,_ Hinata figures _._ “Two in the morning, you  _idiot_ …!”

“So?” Hinata questions, to which Kageyama sputters:

“We have to get up at six! Also,  _normal people_ tend to go to sleep, around now.”

“Normal is boring,” Hinata says, moving to the edge of the bed. His eyes have mostly adjusted, now, and he catches the curve of Kageyama’s scowl. _Predictable._ “Plus, this is a  _sleepover_. We aren’t supposed to sleep.”

“…It says it in the  _name,_ idiot.  _Sleep_ over. Do you need a dictionary?

“Do you need me to pull that stick from your ass?” Hinata counters, then sighs. “It’s no fun if we don’t stay up. C’mon, Kageyama- _kun_. I let you stay over out of the  _goodness_ of my  _heart—_ ”

“You asked me to stay because there was a rainstorm, and you were afraid of sleeping alone,” Kageyama retorts, and Hinata can’t help but feel a touch transparent.

“Well,  _that_ , too,” he admits, grudgingly. It’s not untrue, after all. Natsu and his parents are out of town for the weekend, visiting Hinata’s grandparents down the countryside. He couldn’t go with them because of practice, which isn’t too big a deal, really.

“But…”

Without Kageyama here, he imagines the house  _would_ feel rather lonely.

“… I also like being around you,” Hinata finishes, for lack of any excuses. “So,  _there._ ”

Kageyama, for a while, says nothing. Hinata starts to wonder if he’s fallen asleep, again, but then, in a small voice, Kageyama murmurs:

“Oh.” He rustles, and Hinata waits. “What…are we supposed to do, then? During a sleepover?”

Hinata doesn’t know why, but the way Kageyama asks that—so tentatively— makes him sad. He  _knows_  Kageyama doesn’t know everything, but he supposes that some part of him has grown to expect him to. It doesn’t fit: proud Kageyama, with his star-striking toss, being nervous about staying at a friend’s house.

So Hinata says, “We talk!”

Kageyama scoffs. “You want me to tell you a story?”

“No, no,” Hinata says, easily. He thinks for a moment, before asking, “How about… a secret?”

He is sure Kageyama is blushing when he snarls, “ _What_?”

“A secret,” Hinata repeats. “During sleepovers, you’re supposed to trade secrets. Sometimes stories, but mostly secrets.”

“Are we girls?”

“Girls aren’t the only people allowed to have fun,” Hinata chides.

“This doesn’t sound fun at all,” Kageyama says, the hesitance creeping up in his voice, again.

“Oh.” Hinata is the one to say it, this time. He doesn’t want Kageyama to hate tonight, after all. “That’s okay, then.”

Kageyama snickers from the futon. “That was way too easy.”

“What was?”

“Usually you’re so stubborn. It’s like trying to move a brick wall.”

“There’re bigger walls out there,” Hinata says, before he realizes it. He shuts his mouth, lets the image of arms and wrists and palms sift from his mind. In a more teasing tone, he adds, “You, for example. You’re the most stubborn person _ever_.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am  _not_.”

“Are—” Hinata feels a grin tug at his lips. “Why don’t you come up onto the bed?”

“Am n—” Kageyama suddenly goes very still. “What?”

“It’s a sleepover,” Hinata says, like it explains everything.

And it just might. A spatter of seconds pass, and then Kageyama is standing, haloed with starshine as he treads toward the bed. There’s a creaking sound, then Kageyama is sitting—stiff to his shoulders, and as far away from Hinata as possible.

Hinata says, “Come closer, jeez.”

Kageyama swallows. “Alright.”

He lies onto his back, takes an extra minute or so to fold beneath the covers. He’s warm, or at least the air around him feels warm, and Hinata likes it. They stay like that, for some time, and Hinata studies the angles of the other boy’s face, smoothed by the white moonglow.

Finally, he asks, “What do you like to do, Kageyama?”

Of all things, Kageyama  _laughs._ It’s more like a chuckle, actually, but Hinata deems is laughter, then and there. “Dumb question. Volleyball, of course.”

“ _Not_ a dumb question,” Hinata argues. “Dumb answer, though. Of course you love volleyball. But what else?”

Silence.

“Ne, Kageyama?”

“I’m thinking, dumbass!”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Screw you,” Kageyama says. “Alright, what do  _you_ like, besides volleyball?”

“Ummm.” Hinata is pensive. “That’s not too hard. I like pork-buns, and springtime. Riding my bike and laughing. Yeah, that’s it!”

“That’s almost as obvious as volleyball,” Kageyama tells him, and Hinata giggles–for real, this time.

“Okay, okay. How about… fears. What’s your biggest, scariest fear?”

Kageyama turns under the bedsheets. “What’s yours?”

“Ghosts!” Hinata says, voice muffled. “One time, during summer break, me ‘n Natsu were out on a walk and I—there was this other little girl! But Natsu didn’t see her and I did and I was like  _gwaah!_  And Natsu was like ‘nii-chan’, and I said I saw a ghost and then  _she_ was like  _GWAAAH!”_ He laughs sheepishly. “But…it ended up being  her reflection in a shop window. Still pretty creepy, huh?”

“…There’s nothing scary about ghosts,” Kageyama replies, but it doesn’t come out mean, or haughty. Just honest. He doesn’t laugh at Hinata’s story, either. “Ghosts are just what’s left behind after a person goes away. That’s not scary at all.”

Hinata blinks, not quite sure if he’s stepped on a nerve, or maybe even a landmine.

“Don’t judge,” he says, at length. Then, a thought comes. “Hey, you never told me your fear! Cheater! And you never said your likes— _double cheater_.”

“I don’t cheat!” Kageyama hisses, before quieting. Hinata’s gaze drifts over to him, again. “Ugh…um. I’m scared…of losing. Losing a game. Happy?”

“I  _knew that_  already!” Hinata whines. “C’mon, this game is no fun if you’re only learning things about me.”

For the first time all night, Kageyama turns, faces him completely. Now, there are no speculations: he is  _definitely_ blushing, the red burning somewhere deep beneath his pale, apple-white skin. Hinata’s eyes go round, and he wishes the moon could touch more places on Kageyama’s face. He wants to see him better.

He really, really, wants to see him, better.

After his outburst, Hinata expects another snippy remark, or a question, but what Kageyama says surprises him completely:

“I don’t like… empty spaces.”

“Huh?” Hinata pauses, taken aback. He lets the words sink in, yet they don’t seem right. “I thought you liked being alone.”

“That’s  _different,_ ” Kageyama grits out. Hinata almost interrupts, but there’s a pleading note to his teammate’s voice, when he goes on, “I don’t like… when a place that used to be full…is empty. Like, when there’s a lot of people somewhere, and they all…” He shivers. “Leave.”

The confession—because that’s what it is, a  _confession_ —weighs heavily in the air. And Hinata—chatterbox, cartoon-sun, Hinata—cannot find the right thing to say. He’s speechless, and he’s never been speechless, before; he’s come close, and each and every time, he’s about ninety percent sure Kageyama’s been involved, either with a toss, a glare, a play.  _A smile._ Kageyama, who is now curled into a knot beneath the bed-blankets, looking lost, even though Hinata is right here, right  _here._

 _I’m not like them._  He wants to say it. He isn’t quite sure of who ‘they’ are—ex-teammates, abandoning a setter. Parents leaving the house empty. ‘Friends’ who are nothing but a word, and maybe a number in a phone. Hinata doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he wants to. So, he pulls at his voice, wills it to obey.

And it does.

“Kageyama,” he says.

“…What?” he answers, in a rasp.

Hinata tries to say,  _give me your hand,_ but his voice still only wants to say  _Kageyama._ Gently, he nudges Kageyama’s palm with his, and the moment the other boy relents, Hinata grasps him by the fingers, winding his grip tight.

“Stay,” Hinata says, in a quiet voice. “Stay for the whole weekend. We’ll have fun, together.”

A beat passes, and then Kageyama answers, in the same way most people would say  _thank you:_

“Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they snuggled ヾ(o´∀｀o)ﾉ


End file.
